Dreadnought_WarMage

by Charles R Case

  “Why would I?” Boon asked, making Baxter laugh.

  “She’s got you there, Captain. It’s not like you’ve ever said you like men,” he pointed out, his eyes bright with mirth. Then a look of concern flashed across his face. “You do like men, right?”

  Now it was Boon’s turn to laugh.

  “Okay, okay. Sorry. For what it’s worth, Gonders is a pretty good catch; you couldn't do much better.” Sara waggled her eyebrows suggestively. “And I mean that as a guard or a lover.”

  “That would be awesome,” Boon said, her eyes glazing with unspoken thoughts.

  Baxter smiled and gave Sara a wink. “I’ll be sure to put you two together every chance I get, then.”

  Boon blushed crimson, sending both Sara and Baxter into giggles.

  28

  “How long do you plan on staying down here?” Baxter asked, pushing himself to his feet.

  They had been sitting and planning out battle strategies for Boon and Sara for the last twenty or thirty minutes, but the sound of growling bellies had interrupted them several times. Now that they knew where the ship was, though, and knew how to get aboard with little difficulty, they could come back when they were better prepared.

  “I suppose we should resupply. The shuttle will be fine in hover mode for a while, but I didn't really think about having to stay out here for any length of time,” Sara said, extending a hand for Baxter to help her up. “Alant, you said the ship would be ready to move in a few days; do we need to be here for it to keep preparing?”

  “Not at all. Now that there is a War Mage to take control of her, the Exitium will prepare on her own. When her captains are ready, they can take over. They will need a day to properly bond with the core, but they would be able to perform basic maneuvers until a full integration can happen,” he assured her.

  His statement about the core reminded Sara that they needed to find the machine to make them. “Alant, where are the cores made? We need more for the new fleet.”

  Alant tilted his head to the side. “I do not understand the question. They are made where they are made.”

  Now it was Sara's turn to be confused. She looked over at Baxter and Boon, but they just shrugged. “What does that mean?” Sara asked Alant.

  “I do not understand the question. Are you asking what my words mean?” Alant asked.

  Sara waved her hands back and forth in a ‘stop’ gesture. “Wait. I think we’ve started down the wrong path here. Let me start over.” She put her hands on her hips, trying to decide how to get what she wanted from the program. “How are cores made?” she began.

  The Alant program stood straighter, and looked her in the eye more intently. “The secret of core creation is what separates us technologically from the rest of the galaxy. It is a closely held process that is never to be told to any who are not War Mages. Please ensure the room is free of those who could divulge the information, including bonded guards.”

  Sara looked from the still figure to Baxter. “Does he know you’re here? He doesn’t acknowledge you when you talk to him.”

  “Yeah, but in the simulation, the enemies targeted me, so I assume it knows there are others here,” Baxter said, looking to the door they had entered from. “Tell you what, I’ll go explore some of the rooms we passed while you talk. I don't want to cause any trouble.”

  Sara bit her lip, not wanting him to leave, but knowing it was probably for the best. If the War Mages of old were that secretive about the process, there must have been a reason.

  “Okay, but keep your tracking beacon on. I don't want to lose you on this ship,” she said with a smile.

  A spike of fondness came from him, and he winked at her. “Don’t worry, Captain. I’ll be careful.” He turned and jogged off across the dusty floor.

  Sara watched until the big double doors slid open at his approach, and he disappeared, turning down the corridor beyond. Then she looked back up at Alant. “Okay, buddy. It’s just us War Mages. How do you make a core?”

  For the first time, the Alant program looked at Boon. “Please identify yourself with the scanner.”

  Boon looked to Sara with questioning eyes, and Sara gave a nod. Boon stepped up and pressed her thumb to the pad that Sara had used to activate his program. The familiar green line rolled down, and after a moment, the projection bowed slightly, “Thank you, Mage.”

  “Oh, now you see me,” Boon said, uncharacteristically sarcastic.

  “Of course. Now that we are alone, are you sure you wish the words to be spoken out loud?” Alant asked.

  “Why is it such a secret? I understand the pixies being hidden; there is a race of people at stake. But why so secretive with the cores?” Sara asked, suddenly unsure.

  “Because unlike with the pixies, this knowledge can be spoken to anyone; there is no compulsion or contract keeping the words secret. Therefore, it is imperative that few people know the secret, and it is nearly impossible to make a War Mage give up information they do not wish to.”

  Sara thought about that, but it was Boon who figured it out. “It's important because the other races could create them, if they knew the secret?” she guessed.

  Alant gave her a nod. “That is correct. The majority of our advancements could be copied by the Teifen, Elif, or Galvox. Without those advantages, we would be overrun immediately. Therefore, the secret can be trusted to no one, save us.”

  “Okay, that makes sense. So, what’s the secret?” Sara asked, crossing her arms in sudden nervousness.

  “A core is an artifact of pure Aether. They are not made, but created. Traditionally, twin War Mages cast four spells at once, focusing their power until the core is complete,” Alant said, making it sound simple.

  Boon held up a hand. “Wait, you said that other races could make them if they knew the secret, but then you just said that it took two War Mages; the other races don't have War Mages. How could they make them?”

  Alant smiled. “We use two War Mages so that the secret is kept safe. For as long as we have known the technique, only War Mages have practiced it. However, it was not a War Mage that figured out the original process. A core can be made by any four mages, as long as the four spellforms are used. It does not take a large amount of Aether, or time.”

  “Oh. Okay, that makes sense then,” Boon said, slightly chagrined.

  Sara reached out and squeezed her shoulder. “I’m glad you asked. It saved me from looking like the dumb-dumb,” she said seriously. Then she laughed.

  When Boon gave her a dead fish look, Sara focused again on Alant. “What are the spellforms?”

  Four spellforms appeared in front of them, rotating slowly. “Have your familiars memorize them.”

  Alister and Silva were already sitting at their feet; as soon as the forms appeared, the pixies began to study them closely.

  After a minute or two, Alister looked up at her and said, “Merp.”

  “You got it?” Sara asked, and he nodded. She turned to the ferret. “What about you, Silva?”

  Silva chattered, ran up Boon’s leg in a flash, and disappeared behind her back, only to reappear over her shoulder and wrap herself around Boon’s neck.

  “She’s got it,” Boon interpreted.

  The spellforms vanished, and Alant continued. “You must focus all four spells on the same spot, and feed them with power until the core is complete.”

  “What happens if we stop before the spell is done?” Sara asked.

  “The released Aether will saturate you and everything around you for hundreds of kilometers. So much Aether will be absorbed that the objects in question will be pulled into the Aetheric plain to drift outside of time and space for all eternity. The spells do not provide the Aether used to create the core—they only open space-time and let the pure Aether flow into this reality from the Aetheric plain. The amount of Aether that is used is far beyond anything two War Mages could ever hope to channel in a lifetime,” Alant said helpfully.

  “Holy shit,” Boon said, her eyes wi
de.

  “Yeah. Let’s not fuck this up,” Sara said, a little overwhelmed herself. She had a thought. “Just to be clear, the two War Mages don’t have to be twins to do the spell, right?”

  “That is correct. Any two War Mages may perform the spell together. The importance is not in who is doing the casting, but what is being cast. That is why this secret is guarded so closely,” Alant said gravely.

  Sara turned to Boon. “Okay, let’s give it a try. Remember, don’t stop ‘til it’s done. I want to walk away from this.”

  “Don’t worry about that; I want to get back home too.”

  “Is it your Spanish lover? You want to get back to see her?” Sara asked, straight-faced.

  Boon cocked an eyebrow in confusion before turning crimson and stammering, “Gonders is not my ‘Spanish lover’!”

  Sara looked up, as if trying to remember something. “No, I’m pretty sure she was born in Spain.”

  “I mean she’s not my lover!” Boon said, hopping slightly with frustration.

  Sara just winked at the blonde girl, making her growl cutely. “God, you’re adorable. Gonders is going to eat you up when she finds out.”

  Boon hung her head in defeat. “Can we please just get on with this?”

  Sara smiled and nodded, then took a deep breath, closing her eyes to focus. She was so out of sorts from the last few days. I desperately need a nice long yoga session. Hanging out with Alicia would do in the meantime.

  She reached her hands out, and Boon found them with her own small, warm ones. They clasped hands and centered themselves.

  “I’m ready,” Sara said.

  “Me too. Silva?” Boon queried, and the ferret chattered softly.

  “Alister, you take the two forms from the left, and Silva, you take the ones on the right,” Sara instructed.

  She sent a mental request to Alister, and a spellform appeared in her mind. Then a second one materialized next to it. Sara began gently at first, knowing the spellform would tell her how much it needed. She kept her focus on the two spellforms, steadily increasing the Aether flow until it felt like the right amount. She slowly opened her eyes, and nearly lost focus at what she saw.

  Between her and Boon, a point in space seemed to warp and bend in a circular pattern. The center was the blackest black she had ever seen, reflecting no light. Upon closer inspection, she could see that everything behind the black ball was still visible to her, just scrunched up into the space around the ball, folded on itself. It was as if she had poked a hole in some spandex, and then forced a thick rod through the hole; all the same material was there around the rod, but it was warped and stretched. This was the same, but instead of spandex, the material was space-time.

  The black ball grew in size while she watched, stretching the reality around it. Sara looked up and saw Boon staring at the spot with a dazed look of wonder, her mouth open slightly.

  Sara began to worry when the black ball was the size of a basketball. That was much larger than the core on the Raven, but she knew she couldn't stop the spell before it finished on its own. She felt a spike of panic run up her spine. She opened her mouth to ask Alant if it was supposed to be this big, when the ball stopped growing.

  The black surface became hazy, like a thin layer of clouds was forming on the surface of a planet, and was being viewed from far off. The cloud thickened, changing from a haze to a gray, roiling mass. The now gray ball began to shrink, and Sara realized it was being compressed by the gray mist on the surface. As it contracted, the gray mist began to thicken, and reflect more light. It compressed further and faster the longer it went on, until in the last instant, it snapped to the size of a softball, and the thick, now whitish mist became the solid mirrored surface she was familiar with.

  The spells in her head stopped drawing Aether from her, and the core fell from the air to hit the deck with a thud.

  The two women stared at each other in shock.

  “Did we just make a black hole?”

  29

  The Raven dropped out of warp in the outer Sol System. The auto repair function had been busy the last few warps, repairing damage as they traveled. By the time they made two long jumps on approach to Earth, the ship was good as new.

  They were given permission to dock at the orbital station and wait for an escort for the prince. The station was called ‘Xanadu’, even though its official name was John Glenn Space Research… Something or Other. To tell the truth, Grimms couldn't remember the official name, because even on written orders, the station was referred to as ‘Xanadu’.

  Connors brought them in the last few thousand kilometers, swinging around the huge, cylindrical station in low Earth orbit. There were a large number of warships attached to the station, their long, wedge-like hulls sticking out like thorns.

  Once docked, Grimms and Sir Reitus made their way through the ship’s corridors to meet Prince DeSolin and his guards in the docking bay.

  “Have you made any progress with the prisoner?” Grimms asked the brooding Elif as they walked.

  Sir Reitus shook his head. “Not yet. He is keeping his mouth shut. I don't understand; he has been a loyal guard for years… I find it hard to believe that he is a traitor.”

  “Have you tried truth serum or other drugs? I know your people don't like to use them, but I feel like this may be an exception,” Grimms said, stepping through the double doors of the bay.

  The bay was mostly empty, with only a few Marines at post in their armor, and a tightly packed group of Elif in their battlesuits. Their armor was broken down for travel, the plates folded over one another to create a tight package that could be loaded onto small carts.

  In the center of the Elif guards was the small figure of the prince. He stood with his arms crossed, but his eyes were wide with worry.

  “I have considered drugs, but for now he is restrained and fitted with an Aether dampener. I regret that I was not able to get the information from him,” Sir Reitus said darkly.

  The prince saw them approaching and, to Grimms’ surprise, looked worried at his head of guard’s expression, as if the thunderstorm brewing there was for him. The guards surrounding the prince parted, allowing the two men to approach.

  Sir Reitus bowed at the waist. “My prince, I have been interrogating the traitor, but have not been able to gain any knowledge; I apologize.”

  The prince nearly flinched at the bow. “Oh. That’s quite all right, Reitus. It is of no concern; we have arrived and, against all odds, we have survived.”

  “Your Highness, I request that I be allowed to stay aboard the Raven so that I might ferret out the traitor’s motives. I feel he represents a danger to you and the empire that needs to be addressed,” he pressed, head still bowed.

  The prince didn't seem to know what to do with that, and started and stopped several times before saying, “I suppose that would be for the best. The embassy is well-guarded. However, I wish for you to return as soon as you have any information. Don't take too long.”

  Grimms felt like the prince was not being quite as princely as he should be. Before his suspicions got out of control, he reminded himself that, even though he looked like a young adult, the prince was basically a child, and would not be great at decisive action.

  “I thank you, my Prince. I shall endeavor to protect the empire in whatever way I can,” Sir Reitus said solemnly, while slapping his fist to his heart in salute.

  The bay door slid open to show a breathtaking view of Earth and the space beyond, while the plasma shielding held in the atmosphere. A large Elif shuttle rose over the lip of the bay and, with practiced ease, slipped through the shielding. The contrast of silence to the chest-thumping thrum of gravitic engines as the shuttle entered the sudden atmosphere of the bay was enough to make the prince take a half step back in fear. None of his guards seemed to notice—or at least, they acted as such for his sake.

  Obviously, this child prince has not spent much time in a ship. He’s probably been cloistered in his palace hi
s entire life. I should cut him some slack, considering how terrifying this all is to him…

  The shuttle landed, the belly opened up, and a ramp was extended. An Elif female hurried down the ramp first, followed closely by a male. They both wore robes of office, and Grimms recognized the woman as Effrit’s ambassador to Earth. She was the one always on the news feeds, singing the praises of the Elif and their great union with humanity.

  She seems to have forgotten her ancient history, Grimms thought bitterly, then admonished himself. It was not these Elif; it was their ancestors. Still, they knew the truth, and led us on. But there are those like Sir Reitus; honorable men who fight for the good of all. I can get behind Elif like him.

  “My Lord,” the ambassador said in a pleasant, melodic voice, bowing low. “I am Deria Hestis, Ambassador to Earth. I am honored, and relieved that you have made it here. Please let us keep you safe so that you may rise to your throne and lead us all to victory.”

  The prince stepped forward and embraced the ambassador, as was the Elif's customary greeting. “I thank you for your diligent service to the empire. I gladly accept your offer,” he said in what Grimms recognized as a formal exchange of sorts.

  The prince turned back to Colonel Grimms. “I thank you for my rescue. The empire is indebted to you,” he said with a slight bow of his head.

  Grimms gave him a smile and a salute. “It was our pleasure to help, Prince DeSolin.”

  Then the prince and his retinue turned and boarded the shuttle. They were out of the bay in less than a minute, the shuttle burning hard for Earth.

  “I thank you for letting me continue my investigation with the traitor. I wish to find the answers, for our sake and yours,” Sir Reitus said, turning and bowing to Grimms.

  In truth, Grimms had no idea that he’d want to stay, and it irked him slightly that the knight had not let him know ahead of time, but he knew it was for the best. His crew was not prepared to deal with the Elif traitor at the moment.